No pressure

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This is a “green” notebook that absorbs the crap out of any water to comes in contact with.

Now that I’ve familiarise myself with watercolouring, I understand now why artists love it so much. I used to hate the idea of letting go control and let the water does its work. I hated that I needed watercolour paper to paint on and to consider how much paint you pick up and how much water the brush can hold. Unlike colouring pencils or crayons, if you want it lighter, loosen your grip. If you want a darker shade, just press harder. In watercoloring though, all you’re gonna create are thin and thick strokes and possibly even fraying the hairs of your brush.

I started doing calligraphy using copperplate nibs and I think that really became a challenge for me when I used the same technique for brush lettering. Because copperplate nibs are solid, you’d need to press harder for thicker strokes and literally no effort besides holding the pen for thin strokes. I tried brush lettering and I loathed it, saying that I’ll never use it again.

But seeing instagram and pinterests with all kinds of art mostly done using brush lettering, I knew I had to give it another chance.

I’m glad I did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have understood that giving up control doesn’t always mean chaos; it reveals another side of it.

Not what they seem

I just found out that those people that sells beauty product does not really know much about skin. Some do but mostly doesn’t. They’re only trained to sell products they represent. They’re only trained to give advice on what products to sell upon hearing certain keywords customer says. Huge pores, oily, dry, flaking skin, dark spots, redness. 

My toner was running out so I went to the counter of the certain brand I’m using. She was commenting about the oil on my face and where the pimples are and scars were.

Seller: Do you use any hair products? Perhaps hair oil? Because what I’m seeing is that the pimples and scars are mostly on the side of your face and at your jawline.

Me: Yes I do use hair oil. But when I do I’ll tie my hair up so it doesn’t touch my face.

Seller: Hmm… But I still don’t understand why does your pimples gather at your jawline. Are you a night burner?

Me: No I have a regular sleeping routine. The jawline area is usually associated to hormones.

Seller: *continues to figure out why*

Me: It’s probably because of hormones.

Seller: *hmm.. Why… Hmm… But she doesn’t sleep late or let her hair touch her face.. Hmm…*

Me: My hormones are imbalance.

Seller: You sure it’s not your hair? *ponder ponder*

Me: No.


Then she asked about the condition of my skin on my point of view.

Me: A lot of people has been telling me my skin type is oily but most of the time i feel that it’s dry which makes my skin oily.

Seller: What do you mean?

Me: Like when your skin is dry, it will produce more oil to substitute the dryness making your skin more oily than usual.

Seller: *stares blankly at me*

Me: *do even know anything about skin* Forget it.

If y’all want advice, please consult a dermatologist, pharmacist or even a beautician. Not over the counter seller. They’re just there to say the right things and make you buy their product.

》1/5/2017《 KL Trip: Day 5/6

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 |

Day 5 is Sukishi day!

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Sukishi and Suki-Ya has the same concept: Japanese Shabu Shabu Buffet. The thin slices of pork/beef/chicken/lamb is endless. The only difference is that Suki-Ya doesn’t serve pork in their menu. They’re paired best with the sukiyaki soup base, I reckon. You swirl it in beaten raw eggs after scooping them out from the soup which cools them down considerably before you dip it in a spicy miso paste sauce (I think. Just dip it. It’s good) and into your mouth. It’s warm, smooth, flavourful, and the best thing is, it’s endless. Every seat has a sheet of paper introducing the types of meat, soup and sauces they have, as well as a guide for you to enjoy your shabu shabu time more efficiently. All the sauces will be served to you automatically. All you need to do is choose the soup base and meat. Yes, you can order all that they provide.

And like every buffet restaurant, there’s ice cream! They used to serve a black sesame ice cream but it wasn’t highly accepted by people so now they only serve green tea and chocolate ice cream, which is yum too!

After lunch Tim and I spent our time in Sunway Pyramid reminiscing about the good old times. It’s the best shopping mall to get anything because it has a wide price range and it has every kind of shop there is.

We bought llaollao – THE best frozen yogurt I’ve ever eaten after Yogurberry disappeared. Can’t decide on the sauce? Go for chocorock and I promise you will not regret it. The best deal is probably Sanum – you get 2 types of crunchies and 3 types of fruits and 1 sauce; that’s like, 6 toppings!

I can’t remember what we had for dinner. Before retiring back to our hotel, we managed to catch Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 2 from TGV Cinemas. How psychotic was his dad anyway?


It’s June already and I’m still not done blogging about my trip to KL in April. What’s taking so long? I just moved to a new place temporarily and there’s no wifi there. I’ve exhausted the limited data that I have on my phone. I usually dread going to work but it’s the nearest place I can get a wifi connection, so I find it weird that I look forward to go to work now. I know I’ve said this before but my monthly friend still hasn’t visited yet which makes me all moody and tired. To top it all off, it has been raining every evening everyday.

On what happens after you jump off cliffs and other scary things

….you die.

I can’t recall was it The Last Song or The Vampires Diaries that said: eulogies aren’t for the dead to hear; they’re for comforting the living.

No matter how much pain you think or you’re truly in, there’s no greater pain than losing a person in your life that was supposed to be with you forever. If you love them, you wouldn’t harm yourself. Because the person you’re actually killing isn’t you; it’s them.

The blog I reposted had nothing to do with death but I was just reminded or prompted to write what I wrote because of her blog title.

Hudhurungi

I did a scary thing, a bold thing. But this piece is not about taking the plunge, it’s not about gathering the guts to leave your comfort zone, it is about what you experience and feel immediately after leaving your comfort zone.

I still experience bouts of fear, I still feel jittery and daunted.

This is for my fellow cliff jumpers, are you afraid too, even after the jump? Is it a bit like jumping off a cliff into the ocean and being submerged under the waves? You know that you will come up and swim, eventually, but for now the force of your jump has you under the rolling waves.

Well this is me, this is me saying that I am still scared, and if you are too, blink twice. We are learning together, are we not?

I am still daunted, still trembling in hope and fear, still learning…

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Muscle Memory

I initially didn’t plan to write today because I’ve been writing so much I fear that I’ll use up all the ideas I have to blog. But here I am, writing about nothing in particular (or do I?). I came across a blog post: What To Do When You Want to Write But Don’t Know What to Write and followed the writer’s advice. As usual my day is going by (still working) like an unchanging season. I don’t even know what season is since my country has only one season – perpetual summer with the occasional spring feel.

I was writing (actual writing, like on paper) and realised that my words are of a certain size. Everyone have their own special handwriting of different curves, size, squiggles whether it’s messy or neat but never exceeding a certain height. We’re so accustomed to writing on lined paper, governed by its fence that if we try writing beyond it, it doesn’t turn out nice because it’s unnatural. Our wrist have no muscle memory of that.

Why I’ve never finished a journal

The Alpine Path

This is my beautiful new Moleskin journal, part reward for hitting my word count last month and part indulgence that I couldn’t resist any more. Some may say these journals are overrated, but the softness of the leather, the silky feel of the pages, and most importantly, the perfect distance between lines make it love every time for me.

When it’s been a while since I’ve last purchased a notebook of any kind, I start to get an itch to visit Barnes and Noble or a twinge when I walk past the journal aisle in Target, even if I have nothing particular in mind to use it for. There is something about all of those gloriously blank pages. Each one is a new beginning. Sometimes I flip open a new journal and just run my fingers over blank page after blank page. It’s perfect without the imperfections of life finding…

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